


A Marriage of Convenience

by ashes_of_roses (KendraLuehr)



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Historical RPF, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: 18th Century Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Blow Jobs, Congressman Benjamin Tallmadge, Dad Ben, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Happy Ending, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, Light Angst, Marriage of Convenience, Masturbation, Missionary Position, Oral Sex, Sexual Content, Sharing a Bed, Slow Romance, Unplanned Pregnancy, Woman on Top, bundling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:27:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29295135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KendraLuehr/pseuds/ashes_of_roses
Summary: To save the Shippen family from social ruin, Ben and Peggy are slated to marry. Forced to share a bed with a stranger, neither expected to eventually share their hearts, as well.Sexual content warning.
Relationships: Benjamin Tallmadge/Peggy Shippen, John André/Peggy Shippen (mentioned)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31
Collections: Turn of the Seasons: Winter 2020-2021





	A Marriage of Convenience

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Turn of the Seasons: Winter 2020-2021 collection (https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Turn_of_the_Seasons_Winter_2020_2021), which you can still participate in! You have until 2/28/21. :) I admittedly wasn't going to do this at first, but then I thought of Ben/Peggy for the whole bundling board idea I had, and before I knew it, I'd written 6k in two days lol. I finished up the rest of it today, so I hope you all enjoy!
> 
>  **Quick note:** In this fic, Benedict and Peggy never had children. They were married, but I set it so that the marriage was annulled once Benedict fled for England. I think every other change I've made is self-explanatory, but if not, feel free to ask! :)

Despite the prim, proper smile painted on Peggy’s face, her teeth were clenched so hard that they ached. While her father and Reverend Nathaniel Tallmadge quarreled in the far corner of the room, she and Ben Tallmadge remained on the other side, standing shoulder-to-shoulder, but not acknowledging the other as the argument swelled.

“I am _not_ to be insulted!” the reverend spat. “Your daughter is considered a stain on society, a _blight,_ and if you are unwilling to tithe my church as part of her dowry, I will not consent to this union!”

Edward’s face grew pink. “Margaret is a beautiful girl who-”

“Brought great shame to your family, that’s what!” Nathaniel growled. “And now you are preying upon the goodness of my son’s heart! Why, I had absolutely _no_ intention of allowing this infernal match, but Ben doesn’t wish to see your daughter fall to ruin!”

Peggy winced, then looked down at her laced hands. She’d fallen to ruin long, _long_ before Benedict fled the country and left her behind, saddling her with the brand of “traitor” and causing even her dearest friends to leave her side. Though both she and her father loathed the idea, the latter had decided she needed to wed a respectable Patriot in order to save the family name from collapse. Benjamin Tallmadge, though nowhere near their level of wealth, was a congressman and a well-loved hero of Washington’s circle. Young, handsome, and most importantly, a _bachelor,_ he had been Edward’s grudging choice – or rather, _only_ choice after receiving countless rejections from other contenders.

“I wish men didn’t feel the need to shout to exert dominance,” Peggy muttered, nervously fiddling with the collar of her gown. “It’s so unrefined.”

“They look like plebs,” Ben agreed.

The two shared a sly smile, only for Peggy to immediately remember herself and look away. She didn’t wish to be friendly with this man. He had been there for John’s execution – had been the one to aid in snapping his neck, in fact – and to show him even an ounce of goodwill seemed treasonous to her heart.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” she softly spoke. “Whatever misplaced gallantry has led you down this path, I hereby release you.”

“I’m not being gallant,” Ben assured her. “I’ve always…w-well, I find you charming, Miss Shippen. Most matches lack even that at its core, so I feel lucky in this regard.”

Peggy snorted. “Well, just so long as you adore my charm, I daresay this is a match built for the ages.”

“Your cynicism is noted and respected.”

“Noted and respected, and yet not _adhered_ to. Had you truly felt as such, you never would’ve consented to this union.”

Ben looked down at her, his kind blue eyes searching her face for answers. “Do you not care for your reputation?”

“I care for _nothing_ anymore,” Peggy snapped, “and _least_ of all for the man who allowed John to die without a fight.”

Finally, a tragic look of recognition crossed Ben’s gaze. “I _did_ fight for him,” he assured her. “I pleaded with His Excellency to spare André’s life, but-”

“Libations!” Edward exclaimed, startling the couple to attention. Snapping his fingers at his servants, he came toward Ben and Peggy and declared, “After much spirited deliberation, Reverend Tallmadge and I have finally reached an agreement. You two are to be married next year, but for now, Benjamin shall remain under this roof to improve the Shippen image.”

Peggy’s face grew bone-white. “But Father…!”

“No argument from either of you!” Edward groused. “Reverend Tallmadge shall return to Setauket, and Benjamin will stay here until your wedding. Afterward, you are to take up residence in a home that the reverend and I have purchased as a wedding gift.”

The servants began doling out glasses of sherry, but both Nathaniel and Peggy declined.

Cruelly, her own words echoed in her head as a horrible twist of irony: _“By the time I’m Miss Redmond’s age, I expect to be on my second husband.”_

Drawing in a sharp breath, Peggy blinked back tears and exhaled. “I need some air,” she whispered. “Excuse me, please.”

With a hand pressed to her lacy bodice, she swallowed back her nausea and fled from the room before another word could be spoken.

* * *

Appropriately, on their first night together, a blanket of snow fell and bathed the city in a dreary, powdered gloom.

“You are to sleep here,” Edward announced. Clutching at a candle, he observed while a servant prepared the new couple’s bed. “Margaret, this is where your mother and I slept before our union. The board was removed afterwards, of course, but…well…” He looked them over with contempt. “You are _not_ to touch one another prior to this marriage. If Margaret is in a delicate condition, I _will_ know.”

Peggy snorted. Despite the slight enjoyment she gleaned from Ben’s obvious discomfort, she kept her arms folded across her petite bosom, physically closing herself off while the servant finished securing the board in the middle of the bed.

“All done, sir,” he announced, stepping back.

Edward leaned over and tested the secureness of the board, then gave a satisfied nod. “Good. Everything appears to be in order, so I shall leave you two to your rest.” Here, he leaned down and pressed a perfunctory kiss to Peggy’s cheek. “Goodnight, Margaret. I pray that in time, you will understand just how important this is to our family.”

Peggy said nothing in reply, so with a gruff little grumble, Edward nodded to his servant, and then the two turned and closed the door on the unhappy couple.

Silence filled the room in their wake, and Peggy immediately felt suffocated as she made her way toward the bed. Her chemise whispered around her legs as she moved, and without acknowledging Ben with eye contact, she pulled back the covers and slipped into the bedding.

Ben hesitated a long while. He had never seen a woman in such a state of dress (or lack thereof), and any time he dared to look at Peggy, he could feel his palms start to sweat. Clearing his throat, he dutifully moved toward his own side of the bed, then awkwardly settled himself down underneath the covers. He could hear his heart in his throat, loud and strenuous, so he attempted to undo his nerves by announcing, “If it pleases you, I can tell you a little bit about myself. That way, this might not be so-”

“I would request that you not speak to me,” Peggy snapped. “We may be engaged to be married, Congressman Tallmadge, but I have _no_ interest in getting to know you. This is a business transaction and nothing more.”

Her coy demeanor from the night they’d met was long gone, and with a sharpness in his chest, Ben offered a plaintive nod. “Of course, Miss Shippen. I apologize for-”

“What did I just say?”

Falling silent, Ben swallowed back the rest of his apology and pulled the quilt up to his chin. For the rest of the night, he laid there as stiffly as the board placed in between them.

* * *

Ben felt badly for lying to Peggy. The truth of the matter was, he _had_ agreed to the match out of gallantry, because in his own way, he felt responsible for her. John André was the man Peggy Shippen loved, and since the three of them shared a secret – since no one else _knew_ of Peggy’s involvement – he felt it his unspoken duty to ensure she remained safe. Ben had failed in saving John’s life, but he would _not_ fail in saving Peggy’s.

At breakfast the next morning, she ignored his gaze and ate in silence. Edward, though taciturn, seemed more than happy to announce all the new, booming business ventures their engagement was bringing to the table.

“So happy to hear it, sir,” Ben mumbled. His stomach felt positively acidic, and when he and Peggy briefly locked eyes, that feeling only worsened. She resented him – she _loathed_ him – and as he pretended to listen to Edward’s affairs, Ben realized he was also a damned fool for thinking he could ever be anyone’s savior.

* * *

The next few weeks were torture for Peggy. Despite the fact Ben was the perfect gentleman, and only addressed her when spoken to, the finality of their situation was starting to take its toll. This was real – this was _happening_ – and within a matter of months, she would become Mrs. Margaret Shippen Tallmadge.

Nearly brought to tears by the thought, Peggy made a hurried path for the library. Even though the books she read often featured heroines equally trapped, shamed, or miserable by circumstance, she found it far more palatable to read about someone _else’s_ pain than to accept her own.

With a rush of breath, she stepped into the room and halted, startled to find Ben eagerly devouring a book of some sort – she didn’t recognize the title. In a lengthy stack at his side laid even _more_ books, and all about inventions and progress.

With a prick in her chest, Peggy recalled how John, too, had been enamored by innovation.

Ben finally seemed aware of her presence and looked up. Paling, he quickly set aside his book and spluttered, “Oh, uh…Miss Shippen! I apologize, I will gladly relocate to-”

“What are you reading?”

Perplexed, Ben appraised her with clear skepticism, almost as if he were waiting for the proverbial axe to fall. “W-well, it’s-”

“I see Ben Franklin’s book in that stack,” she continued. “John was rather fond of him, as well.” The prick in her chest worsened, and with each shivering breath she took, it felt as if her heart were shattering into a mosaic of memories – warm, beautiful, _lovely_ memories that she wished to keep between John and herself, and yet somehow, for some _despicable reason,_ she felt compelled to share this one small part of him with Congressman Tallmadge.

Stepping toward him, Peggy laced her hands and glanced at the pile of books. “I see now why you teach. It must be thrilling in its own right to hold so much knowledge.”

“I barely know how to contain it,” Ben agreed, smiling boyishly. “I only feel truly content whenever I can share it with the world.”

“Is that also why you became a congressman?”

“One of the many reasons, yes.” Fumbling for the stack at his side, he added, “I could always teach you, if…if you desired it?”

Peggy snorted, though not unkindly. “With all due respect, Congressman, I will keep to what is expected of me.”

Ben frowned. “Which is?”

Her mouth pinched before spreading into a tight, superficial smile. “Knowing my place, of course. Just as _you_ should know yours. Good day, Congressman.” With a clipped curtsy, she spun on her heel and made her retreat.

* * *

When they retired for bed on that night, there was a palpable tension as they laid down on their respective sides.

Ben cleared his throat, rolled over onto his flank to get more comfortable, and then blew out the single candle illuminating their room.

As soon as the light blotted out and left them in thick, inky blackness, Peggy whispered to him, “You may speak to me on this night, if it pleases you.” She could practically hear his silence through the dark, heavy and full of skepticism.

Finally, he asked her in a gentle voice, “What would you wish to discuss?”

“Yourself,” she said. “On our first night together, you offered to speak of your personal attributes. Despite my feelings on the matter, I believe I am finally ready to listen.”

“Oh…” Ben shifted a moment, then allowed, “There really isn’t much to tell. I come from a family of-”

“I didn’t ask about your family, Congressman. I asked about you.”

The silence worsened, and then Ben exhaled before trying again, “I am a Yale graduate, a lover of freedom, the written word, and winter sunsets. I also have a discomfort with bees.”

 _“Bees?”_ Peggy laughed in spite of herself, startled. “Why ever would you take so much issue with _bees?”_

“I was stung one too many times as a child,” he said, chuckling along with her. “Truly, is it such an irrational fear? Those bloody things hurt.”

Peggy grinned, picturing a small, frightened Ben vainly trying to evade a swarm. “I wouldn’t know,” she said. “Unlike you, I wasn’t exposed to much nature as a girl…not outside of the garden, of course. Even so, Father preferred that I played indoors with my nursemaid.”

“Sounds like imprisonment,” Ben muttered.

Slowly, Peggy turned her head to look at him. Despite the pitch black, she thought she could see the faint outline of his profile through the dark. “Why would you say that?” she softly asked.

“Because, Miss Shippen, as someone who once fought for freedom, I readily take note of the opposite.”

“And yet you willingly imprison yourself?” she fired back. “The colonies may be free, Congressman, but _we_ are not. Perhaps you are not so keenly astute as you seem to believe.”

Ben was quiet for a long while. In fact, Peggy assumed he’d fallen asleep before the sound of his voice cut through the air again.

“I don’t feel imprisoned here,” he murmured. “I pray that in time, you will grow to see me as a friend instead of your jailer.”

She heard him roll over through the dark, and despite the yearning to start a disagreement, Peggy knew the topic was closed.

* * *

One week later, Peggy invited Ben to accompany her through town. Despite the snow on cobblestone, neither wished to ride in a carriage, so they strode arm in arm through the streets. With one gloved hand tucked into the crook of Ben’s elbow, Peggy observed the pristine swath of white with growing admiration. While the weather had seemed cold and bleak at the start of their engagement, she suddenly found it cozy in its simplistic beauty.

“I cannot believe the snow keeps coming,” Peggy said, stepping carefully with Ben through the semi-busy street. “Though far from unusual, this winter has been quite persistent.”

“This is my first Philadelphian winter,” Ben allowed. “I miss Setauket, but there is a certain beauty in snow-covered infrastructure.”

Peggy pursed her mouth. “As your betrothed, do you think _I_ should visit Setauket at some point?”

Ben looked down at her then, startled. “Would you truly _wish_ to?”

“Not in particular, no, but your commentary last night painted a rather vivid picture in my mind – one overrun with bees, unfortunately – and I am curious to see if my first impression was correct.”

Ben had to smile. “Setauket is unlike any other – for me, anyway – though as a woman of means, I imagine you won’t be too impressed.”

Peggy wrinkled her nose. “Just because I hail from a rich family doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the smaller, lesser things in life. Besides, it isn’t as though you lack any means, Congressman. You _did_ go to Yale.”

Ben moved to speak, but was interrupted when a snowball careened right between his shoulder blades. He staggered a moment, stunned, before whipping around in time to fend off another blow.

“Traitor!” a gangly, middle-aged man shouted. _“Turncoat!”_

Aghast, Peggy clutched at Ben’s arm and shrieked when another snowball sailed just over their heads. “Congressman, who is that man?” she demanded. “Surely he doesn’t think you a traitor because of our engagement?”

Taking Peggy by the elbow, Ben briskly turned her around and steered her toward a neighboring street. “Unfortunately, Miss Shippen, my speech in Congress received a bit of unwanted attention the other day,” he muttered. “I trust _that_ is what he’s referring to.”

“What speech?”

By now, the heckling had stopped, but only because the agitator had opted for a tavern rather than make pursuit.

Sighing, Ben pulled her to a stop and looked down at the snowy ground, suddenly unable to return her gaze. “The men who captured John…they were to be lauded heroes, and I couldn’t stand by and allow it to happen.”

Peggy’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“There was a move to reward them for their so-called bravery, and I…w-well…” Still keeping his gaze trained on the ground, he clumsily admitted, “I made a passionate plea on the Major’s behalf. By serving in Congress, I not only intend to speak for the colonies, but to also give voice to the voiceless. Those cowards didn’t _deserve_ recompense for what they did, and I stand by that claim.” Ben’s shoulders slouched. “Unfortunately, there are quite a few Patriots who disagree.”

Peggy gaped up at him in visible shock, both moved and overwhelmed. “Why ever would you do such a thing?” she demanded. “Congressman, to risk your very reputation-”

“I did it for you,” Ben said plainly. “If I am unwilling to bear the burdens of my betrothed, what sort of husband would I be?”

She blinked in astonishment, her chin quivering as an unmistakable stinging sensation overtook her eyes. Ben finally gestured to continue their walk, and as she accepted his outstretched elbow, Peggy tried to assure herself that the buoyant, bubbly sensation in her breast was because of John and not the kind, perplexingly gallant man at her side.

* * *

Splashing her face with water from her washbowl, Peggy exhaled while fumbling for a cloth. Naked and damp, she patted herself down and swung her curls over her shoulder, not even bothering to conceal herself when she heard the door open from behind.

“Miss Shippen, I hope I’m not-” Ben came to a stumbling halt, his eyes wide and his mouth dropping at the sight of her unabashed nudity. Ever quick to take action, he immediately about-faced and reached for the door.

“Stop,” Peggy called to him. “You are not in any violation.”

Trembling, Ben slowly released the door handle and straightened. Despite her invite, he couldn’t bring himself to turn around. “Miss Shippen, I don’t think-”

“Yes, well many men share in that unfortunate setback,” she teased. “Come in, Ben. I am just getting ready for bed.”

He remained rooted to the spot, but took immediate notice of how she’d addressed him. “Are we to speak as familiars?”

Peggy huffed. “You are practically my husband. At this point, it would be silly _not_ to, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I…suppose so. Yes.”

“Then come,” she said, slipping into her dressing gown, “join me.” When Ben still remained facing the door, she sighed and folded her arms. “I am no longer indecent, so you may turn around now. Truly, have you never seen a naked woman before?”

Red-faced, Ben hesitated a moment before turning to regard her. “I am a reverend’s son,” he tightly said. “Make of that as you will.”

With a snort, Peggy pulled back the covers and slipped into her side of the bed. “Far be it for me to contradict your point, but holy men are just as fallible as the rest of us. Even if you were the most devout being on the face of this earth, I feel confident that you are not immune to stirrings.”

Ben swallowed sharply. “No, I suppose I’m not.”

“Does it _bother_ you that I know you’re inexperienced?”

Drawing a breath, he said, “Quite frankly, I care very little for what others think of me. If they cannot accept me for who I am, then I am wholly content to seek out those who do.”

Peggy froze at that, shaken. Though nowhere near verbatim, his passion reflected that of John’s whenever she’d cornered him in the garden, inspiring his defensive speech of being overlooked because of his upbringing.

Blinking back tears, Peggy laid down and drew a hand over her heart. “Come lie with me,” she entreated.

“B-but…”

“Please.”

Hesitant, Ben waited a beat before heading over and crawling into bed. Though the moment he moved to lie down, he noted the tears in her eyes and halted in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she whispered, “I just…miss him.”

Not needing any clarification, Ben’s gaze softened and he sat up alongside the wooden board. “Do you wish to speak of it?”

“No…though I do wish to be held. If you wouldn’t mind?”

Conflicted, Ben appraised the board, then Peggy before his face steeled with resolve. _To hell with what was proper._ Swinging a leg over the wooden divide, he carefully eased himself down alongside her, and then pulled her into his willing arms. Weeping softly, Peggy crumpled in his embrace and buried her face into his chest, her fingers clutching at his shirt while his fingers passed through her hair.

It had been months since Peggy had cried. She’d never allowed it – whether from weakness or pride, she couldn’t be certain. But as Ben held her strongly beneath his chin, the warmth of his arms increasingly blurred into that of John’s tender embrace, and she sobbed anew for the love she had lost.

* * *

They awoke the next morning in each other’s arms. Exhausted from her emotional outburst, Peggy felt oddly vulnerable as Ben peered back at her from across their shared pillow, his eyes warm and his smile kind as she remained frozen in shock.

“Good morning,” he mumbled. “Are you-?”

“Unwell,” she supplied, quickly disentangling herself from his arms. “I apologize for last night. It was wholly inappropriate and unladylike.”

Bewildered, Ben rose while she stumbled out of bed. “You needn’t be ashamed,” he assured her. “When the heart is in pain-”

“And what would you know of pain?” she spat. “What would _you_ know about losing the one you love most?”

Ben flinched as if he’d been struck. His throat bobbed sharply, then he lowered his eyes and murmured, “I did not lose a lover, but I _did_ lose a brother and a best friend in the war…and my mother long before that. We all have private horrors that we carry around within our hearts, Peggy, but just because you can doesn’t mean you should. It isn’t weak to shoulder that burden with another.”

Eyes growing glassy, Peggy turned and fumbled for her hair brush. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she said, “but I wish you wouldn’t pretend that our pain is the same.” Whisking the brush through her curls, she sniffed and swallowed. “Though I appreciate what you did last night, I would also appreciate that you never press me on the matter unless I, myself, have offered the information.”

“Very well.” Ben appraised her with sad, tired eyes. “Are we to return to formalities?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Heading toward the door, she opened it to find her servant waiting on the other side. As she let the woman in, she flatly told Ben, “You are my betrothed. We will soon be as familiar with one another as the sun and moon.”

As Ben slipped out of bed, the irony of her statement was not lost on him.

* * *

In three days, she kissed him for the first time. Ben said his goodnights, and then her fingers were suddenly fisting his nightshirt, tugging him down to meet with her demanding lips.

“Peggy…” Her name caught between their kiss, soft and uncertain, before she forced her mouth back over his in a harsh, needy kiss that swept through them both like wildfire.

Peggy hadn’t willingly touched a man since John, but with her hands in Ben’s hair and his palms on her cheeks, the gesture felt easy and natural. Ben was a careful kisser, earnest and sweet, but Peggy didn’t want that. She wanted it to hurt. She wanted _pain_ for choosing to touch another. And when she bit down on Ben’s lip, she had to convince him not to pull away…that his passions were wanted, _needed._

Breathless and trembling, Ben held her shoulders while they both hovered over the bundling board. In the candlelight, his mouth was full, sensual and kiss-swollen, and Peggy felt a pang of longing at the sight. She never thought she’d ever feel that way again.

“We can’t,” he gently reminded her.

“You are to be my husband in a matter of months,” Peggy persisted. “I grant you permission to touch me, Ben. I…I _want_ you to.”

Perplexed, he watched her slowly unlace the top of her shift, and his eyes widened in innocent, boyish panic once the swell of her breasts came into view.

Respectful to a fault, Ben snapped his eyes back to her face and said more forcefully, “We _cannot._ One day, I will be honored to perform my husbandly duties, but until then, I’m afraid I must keep to my agreement with your father.”

“But why?” Nuzzling into his cheek, Peggy grazed her lips over the corner of his mouth and thrilled at the soft, helpless sound he made. She moved to kiss him again, but Ben quickly withdrew, toppling out of bed and nearly knocking over their candle in the process.

“I care for you,” he weakly managed, “and therefore, I intend to cherish you only when the time is right. Goodnight, Peggy.”

He turned and stumbled out into the hall, intent on getting away from the temptation of her warm, giving mouth, bright eyes and gentle, rounded curves. When Ben arrived at the end of the corridor, he reached down inside his breeches and got a firm grip on himself. A grimace tore across his face and with a low, needy groan, he tipped his head back and started stroking himself, fast and desperate. Each harsh, spirited pump brought Peggy to mind – of how she’d nearly bruised him in her ardor – and as he thought of her exposing herself to him, _pleading_ for his touch, he tensed as his cock throbbed and ached and pulsed between his stroking fingers.

Ben had never thought he desired Peggy, but as he pulled on himself and shuddered, he suddenly realized that yes, he _did_ want her, and after doubling over, he came hard inside his breeches with a low, throaty cry.

* * *

The next day, Ben couldn’t ignore it. As much as he wished to bury his sins deep within his heart, just laying eyes on Peggy brought it all rushing back – her warmth, her lips, her _need,_ and with a shivering breath, he tried to focus as the two of them sat chaperoned in the library. They had been able to steal unsupervised moments before, but only because they’d never made actual plans to spend time together – whenever they _did_ come into contact, it had been purely coincidental. Now, however, there was a clear shift that even the ever-mercurial Edward could see, and his stance on pre-marital urges was once more made plain.

 _“No tupping!”_ Edward had snapped at them. _“I desire grandchildren, but not a moment before your wedding day!”_

Anxiously jiggling his foot, Ben pretended to read Voltaire while the appointed chaperone sat between Peggy and himself. The man was thin and ruddy-faced, and kept blowing his red, bulbous nose into a handkerchief. Every now and then Peggy would look up, and Ben returned her gaze with what he prayed to be moral politeness. She would flash her classic coy half-smile, and then return to her book as though it was far more interesting than his developing infatuation. _Was_ it, he bitterly wondered? Or was she, too, tottering dangerously close to the end of her rope?

Swallowing back the groan that yearned to escape, Ben instead drowned out his thoughts with the chaperone’s blowing nose, and then tried his best to return to his book.

* * *

This time when Peggy kissed him, Ben was ready for it. He met her over top of the board with undeniable enthusiasm, his fingers curling through her hair and his face angling strongly into hers while she sighed sweetly into his mouth. Her following whimper was nearly enough to undo him.

Parting their lips to dot several soft, careful kisses beneath his jawline, Peggy asked him in a hushed, honeyed voice, “Are you _certain_ you won’t cross the board?”

Ben felt her smile against his skin. Swallowing, he shook his head and moved his mouth back over hers. Kissing was fine, he decided. Kissing was _safe,_ and when her tongue glossed over his own, an undeniable throb pulsed demandingly between his legs.

Quivering, he kept his hands in gentlemanly places while Peggy explored. She slid her palms up over the expanse of his clothed chest, smoothed her touch across his shoulders and then drifted down, down, down until she cupped and stroked his growing hardness through his nightclothes. With a sharp intake of breath, Ben abruptly seized her wrist and shuddered into their kiss. His brow creased, and then with cautious intrigue, he loosened his hold and curled her hand around him, encouraging her to roll her palm over his cock with slow, forceful strokes.

“Lift up your garment,” Peggy commanded.

Flushed and panting, Ben fumblingly reached down and did as she asked. Despite his humiliation, there was a depraved thrill in exposing himself to her wandering hands, his teeth gritting as she lowered down and took him into her mouth. His vision pitched and wavered, and dizzily, he fumbled for her shoulders as she bobbed her head between his legs. The board remained beneath them, undisturbed, and Ben growled low in his throat when her tongue licked and swirled around his leaking tip.

“Peggy…” Breathless, his touch grew tender when he reached down and cupped her cheek. “You…y-you don’t have to…”

Peggy withdrew long enough to nail him in place with a pointed look. “I _want_ to,” she snapped. Her eyes were wild and blue, and even with her mouth slick from her fervent efforts, she still looked so desirously kissable. Ben could no longer resist the urge and yanked her up into his arms. He crashed his mouth into hers, hard and forceful, and as they licked, bit and groped at one another, Ben stumbled and the two of them went toppling over onto Peggy’s side of the bed. The board capsized along with them and with a soft, startled gasp of laughter, Peggy looked up at him in unabashed delight.

“You might as well lie over top of me,” she cajoled. “You have already crossed the literal line.”

For once, Ben needed little provocation. Drawing his lips back over hers, he licked at her mouth and groaned when she rolled her hips into his, demanding amidst her experience. “Lie down,” she whispered into their kiss.

Bewildered, Ben moved to reply, but Peggy used her petite body weight to roll him underneath her. He peered up at her from beneath his lashes, stunned, before jerking when she curled a hand around his cock and guided him below her shift. She settled herself over top of his tip, and then with a sharp gasp, she coerced his hardness deep inside her. Ben gave a throaty little cry, and she was quick to clap a hand over his mouth, silencing him while she adjusted to the pleasant stretch. Ben’s eyes smoldered as he watched her rise and fall in his lap, and a ripple of heat flowed through Peggy as she used his cock to stroke at her throbbing insides.

Pitching forward, a soft, needy moan caught in her throat, and then she bounced her hips, sparks of pleasure shooting through her veins when, unprompted, Ben began rolling up to meet with her every descent. Their thrusts grew manic and forceful, and beneath her palm, she could feel, rather than hear each of his long, deep groans.

“It’s so good,” she praised him in a halting, shivering voice, “so, _so_ good…” Dipping a hand between her legs, Peggy started spiritedly rubbing at her bud, and when Ben used both his hands to grab her waist and rock her into his lap, she knew she was done for. Every time she came down, the new angle stroked his cock against her spot in just the right, thrilling way to make her weak in the knees, and as he pulsed and came undone inside her, she could feel a responding spasm from deep within.

Ben cried out beneath her palm and arched against the bedding, overwhelmed by his orgasm. Desperate to follow him, Peggy rubbed her bud and rocked her hips until with a sharp, mewling cry of her own, she crumpled over top of him and gasped for breath.

With their foreheads touching, they panted and laid there for several moments.

Ben cupped her face, overwhelmed as he fondly stroked his thumb down her cheek. “Are you all right?”

A soft, derisive laugh caught in Peggy’s throat, and she leaned into his touch with a smile. “Of course I am! At long last, I think I am finally privy to the ever-praised ‘Tallmadge ambition,’” she teased.

With a shy, boyish smile of his own, Ben tangled his fingers through her hair, then drew her down over top of him for a kiss.

* * *

By morning, they’d fallen into each other’s arms again.

Ben laid over top of Peggy, grunting into her throat while thrusting strongly between her legs. The mattress creaked from his efforts, and Peggy bit down on his shoulder to quiet her cries. “Rub me,” she hissed against his skin.

Amidst his lust-filled haze, Ben managed to reach a shaking hand between their bodies and rub at her bud, a technique his wife-to-be had been all too happy to teach him.

Peggy gave a soft, keening gasp and dropped her head back against the pillow. “Good,” she panted. _“More…”_

Emboldened, Ben circled her bud with several brisk, strenuous strokes, rubbing up, down, back and forth while rocking his hips at a more frantic, fitful pace.

Just like the night prior, he came undone first. Ben gave a harsh, deep groan and emptied himself inside her, his body wracking with shudders as he maintained the pressure on Peggy’s nub.

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped, and as several harsh, shallow gasps caught in her throat, Peggy finally clenched around his cock and bit back a cry of pleasure.

Wilting against the bedding, it took her a moment before she breathed a soft, husky laugh. “Good _God,_ you’re a fast learner.”

Ben chuckled against her neck. “It’s just as you said: I have ambition.”

“The ambition to fuck me?”

She felt a shift in his posture, and then Ben slowly raised his head. “No,” he murmured, “the ambition to be a good husband. Whatever you need, I hope to one day give.”

Despite the fact she wasn’t some blushing ingenue, Peggy felt an unmistakable warmth in her cheeks. She cleared her throat. “Well…I suppose you could start by fixing our bundling board.”

With a sheepish grin, Ben took hold of her hand and pressed a warm, appeasing kiss to her palm.

* * *

Over the weeks, Peggy grew to see Ben as more of a person than a warm body to drown away her sorrows. He would share with her his passion for freedom and female education while she, in turn, tried to open herself up to accepting that her interests weren’t a betrayal to John. The men were similar, but they were also very, _very_ different.

When Peggy sat in on her first congressional hearing, she saw Ben come alive. He was ardent, enthusiastic, and volleyed back rebuttals so smoothly that Peggy, herself felt moved by his fervor. His passion lit a fire in her belly, and she couldn’t help but feel pride burn deep within her breast. This man, this _innovator,_ was not only _her_ future, but America’s. Before that moment, she hadn’t truly believed she could be a patriot.

“You were astounding,” she told him afterwards. “I didn’t realize politics could be so… _invigorating.”_

Ben chuckled. “I got a bit carried away, I must admit. Talk of building this nation never fails to stir my heart.”

“Nor mine,” she murmured, though her eyes appraised him with a different meaning. Before she could think to speak further, a portly, pleasant-faced man approached.

“Ah, Congressman!” he exclaimed. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your lovely companion?”

“Oh, of course.” Smiling fondly, Ben gestured to his fiancée and said, “Sir, this is Miss-”

 _“Mrs._ Congressman Tallmadge,” Peggy cut in, extending her hand with a coy smile.

Both Ben and the stranger appeared equally stunned by her declaration, though there was a softening in the former’s eyes that touched her heart.

After introductions were made, Ben took Peggy’s arm and escorted her back to their carriage.

“I already know what you’re going to say,” Peggy purred, “but have you ever had carnal relations in a stagecoach, Congressman?”

This time when she used his title, her tone was unmistakably flirtatious.

Ben blushed and bit back a startled laugh. “Did my speech move you _that_ much?”

She shrugged. “What can I say? I wish to show my support for our cause in any way I can.”

Once their driver let them into the vehicle, the ardent couple was quick to close their curtains.

* * *

By February, Peggy was pregnant. Their wedding was still a couple months away, and yet she knew in her heart that there was a living, breathing testament to their ardor inside her womb.

They had _already_ been careless last week – a servant had come in, seen their skewed bundling board and fixed it without a word – yet this was much, _much_ worse. Edward had claimed a supernatural sense of “just knowing,” so she feared the day he would finally show a sign of suspicion.

When Peggy worked up the courage to tell Ben, she drew back as though expecting anger. This was wrong – a _mistake._ But to her surprise, Ben’s eyes welled up with tears and he took her face between his hands.

“Are you sure?” he asked, fondly pressing his forehead to hers.

Bemused, Peggy nodded. “Yes…I haven’t had my woman’s blood in quite some time.”

His lips tipped upward and he grinned, stroking his thumbs down the slope of her cheeks. “I’m to be a father?” When she nodded again, Ben breathed a bright, disbelieving laugh that thawed the icy chill in her belly. He wasn’t angry. Unlike Benedict, he seemed to _want_ a family and, most perplexing still, he seemed to want _her._

“Can you feel him?” Ben asked, boyishly gleeful as he moved his hands to rest over her stomach. Cupping her through the fabric of her gown, he felt around with an unmistakable sparkle to his eye.

Unable to help it, Peggy laughed. “And what if it’s a girl?”

“Even better,” he retorted, pausing in his search to lift his gaze. His smile turned soft and effulgent. “Thank you… In only a few months’ time, you have made me the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Peggy blinked up at him, stunned, and tried to ignore the floaty, weightless sensation in her breast whenever he drew her hand to his lips.

* * *

April weddings were not common, but for a woman of social ruin, not to mention her _newest scandal,_ an expedited marriage seemed welcome. Very few people attended. The crowd mostly consisted of congressmen and Ben’s friends – a ragtag bunch, if Peggy was being honest – but when Ben beamed down at her with his warm, brilliant eyes of starshine, she suddenly didn’t mind so much.

The ring was placed onto her finger, and while Ben slipped her hand in his, it took her a moment to realize he was crying.

“Are you happy?” she whispered, concerned.

He chuckled and drew her newly banded hand over his heart. “Unequivocally.”

* * *

Their wedding present was a proud, stately home of brick that overlooked a massive garden. Ben was not an ostentatious man by nature, so he spent most of his time outdoors, either reading or writing amongst the blooms.

Peggy would often come out and sit with him, watching his quill scratch while she held her round, swollen belly between her arms. She was now several months along, and despite her fears, her father hadn’t seemed to suspect nor care about any potential scandal.

“Men are lucky,” she muttered, earning her husband’s attention. “You get to fill me with your seed, and then traipse about while _I_ have to sit here like a sullen, bloated heifer.”

“Cow,” Ben corrected, smiling.

“What?”

 _“Cow,”_ he said again. “A heifer is a female that hasn’t borne offspring.”

“Oh, you!” Indignant, Peggy gathered up one of his books and threw it at him. When he laughed, warm and gleeful, a hint of her annoyance faded and she smoothed out her skirts. _“Either way,_ you are missing my point, Ben. I very much miss my freedoms – most notably when I could stand without my feet swelling up.”

Expression softening, Ben set aside his quill and parchment, then scooted across the grass until he’d pulled her feet into his lap.

Bemused, Peggy watched on as he slipped off her small, ornate shoes and started rubbing at her swollen arches. Any questions she had died on her lips, and with a soft, mewling sigh, she gasped out, “Good _God,_ is there anything those fingers of yours _can’t_ do?”

“Piano, cooking, and surgery, to name a few,” Ben quipped, chuckling. Pushing his thumbs over her sore, tender spots, he was mindful of each wince as she sighed and reclined onto her elbows. “Our son seems to be weighing you down quite a bit, for such a tiny fellow.”

“Daughter,” Peggy corrected. “Trust me: a mother knows these things.”

Ben grinned, his eyes bright and warm. “Regardless, I hope you’re not worried.”

“About what?”

“The birth…your father claims you’ll have access to the finest midwife in town.”

Sighing through her nose, Peggy gave a stiff little shrug. “How can I _not_ be worried, Ben? There’s a little yowling, needy human being inside me.”

“That’s…a terrifying way of putting it, admittedly.”

With a snort, her lips turned up and she beamed. “If I’m not striking terror into the hearts of men, then I’m not doing my job.”

“Heaven forbid.” Gaze softening, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her brow. “In the meantime, I hope my heart is more than sufficient.”

A fondness overtook Peggy’s face, and a playfulness blitzed across her eyes as she curled a hand through his cravat. “Always,” she whispered, lifting up to pull him down for a kiss.

* * *

The birth was torture. While the midwife encouraged Peggy to push, Ben fretfully clung to her hand and squeezed, trying his best not to panic as his wife’s sharp, agonized screams tore right through his tender heart. He was no fool. He _knew_ how brides often turned their wedding dresses into burial gowns, just in case their shift into motherhood brought on their demise. She was so small and fragile…was she to succumb?

“Please, Peggy,” Ben whispered, pressing a kiss to her knuckles, _“please…”_

She screamed yet again, and then there was a sharp, brittle cry that rose above the din. Rattled, Ben lifted his head and glanced down at the midwife, who was dutifully kneeling on the floor between Peggy’s legs. She worked quickly, guiding a squalling, bloody bundle down onto the pillow beneath the parturition chair.

While Peggy whimpered and shivered, the wizened woman cleaned their wailing newborn with an olive oil-soaked sponge. A relieved smile touched Ben’s lips, which soon turned to a grin as he bent and pressed a kiss to his wife’s cool, clammy brow.

“You did it, love,” he whispered.

“And I pray to never do it again,” Peggy mumbled in response, dizzy and weak as she watched the midwife snip her umbilical with a pair of sharp, hefty birthing scissors. “What did we have?” she softly asked.

The midwife looked their way with a smile. “A charming, healthy little girl. Just listen to those lungs!”

A soft laugh swelled within Peggy’s breast, and as she looked up at her teary-eyed husband, she beamed and gloated, “I told you.”

* * *

As Peggy had expected, Ben was every bit as attentive a father as he was a husband. He doted on their little one – or Laura, as they had agreed upon – and read to her, played with her, and did whatever it was her little heart desired. At four years old, she was now a bright-eyed, fiercely inquisitive little blend of their personalities (most notably, Peggy’s sharp tongue coupled with Ben’s soft introspection), and with her free to walk about, Ben would insist upon taking Laura out to their garden as much as possible.

That afternoon, Ben watched Laura dig through the dirt by a rose bush, pretending to be burying her “pirate treasure.”

Peggy appeared at his side with a huff. “What did I tell you about getting her clothes dirty? Ben, that shortgown alone costs-”

“She deserves to experience the world, darling, not that boxy entrapment we call a house,” he insisted.

“But it’s thousands of square feet…”

“I never said it wasn’t a _spacious_ prison.” With a grin, he continued, “Besides, she’s really latched on to my story about privateers. This is a perfectly healthy outlet of expression.”

Peggy’s eyes widened. “If my daughter saddles up with some vile, good-for-nothing privateer, I swear to _God…”_

Ben pressed a finger over her mouth, his eyes twinkling. “I really wish you wouldn’t.”

The crease in her brow softened, and Peggy smirked before kissing his finger. “I hate how you’ve learned to win arguments.”

“By doing what?”

“As if I’m going to tell you!” Turning to lean into his side, she watched their filthy, bright-eyed daughter with a smile. “If nothing else, she’d be the most precious privateer on the high seas…not to mention, the most beautiful.”

“Mama!” With a grin, blonde, little Laura finally lifted what she’d been hiding behind the rose bush. “Look at my buried treasure!”

Peggy paled. Out of the side of her mouth, she hissed at Ben, “You’re letting her bury Father’s _Ming vase?”_

“I hate that thing,” he whispered back. “It clashes with my preference for the simplistic.”

“Oh, you’re simplistic, for certain,” she muttered. Nevertheless, a soft smile touched her lips and she confessed, “I rather hate it myself. If Father asks, we can say Laura broke it. He forgives her for everything.”

“As he should.” Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, Ben smiled as they watched Laura set the vase into the earth, then eagerly shovel dirt over top of the hole. While they stood there, it took him a moment to realize his wife was crying. “Peggy?” Concerned, he squeezed her arm. “Did you change your mind about the vase?”

With a tearful laugh, Peggy shook her head. “No, no, it’s just…I am so unbelievably overwhelmed.” Looking up at him with a bright, tender smile, she placed her hand over his heart and whispered, “Thank you for choosing me.”

Ben’s brow creased in bewilderment. “I didn’t choose you, Peggy…I _love_ you. Perhaps it was an obligation at first, but I’ve always respected you.” Here, he flashed her a soft smile. “How lucky I am that I can now also _adore_ the woman I admire most.”

Peggy laughed again, smoothing her hand up to fiddle with his cravat. “You truly _are_ a congressman,” she teased. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d much rather you put that silver tongue of yours to _better_ use.”

With the shy, lopsided smile he only reserved for her, Ben leaned down and drew her lips to his.

Impassioned, Peggy curled her fingers through his hair and opened her mouth to accept him, a warm, weightless rush surging through her veins when she realized that this, _this_ was home. John may have been at the center of her dwelling, but Ben had stormed all her walls and invaded her senses, claiming the scorched, barren earth of her heart that she’d sworn would never again bear life. But there _was_ life – an abundance of it, in fact, and as she parted their lips with a soft, fervent smile, she knew she couldn’t wait to tell him the news of their latest addition.

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY, so that was long, and I appreciate each and every one of you who read all the way to the end! <3 I was lowkey nervous about writing this, because I've never attempted writing Peggy before. As much as I love her, I just never really had any ideas. With that said, I hope this was as fun (albeit WILDLY AU) for you to read as it was for me to write! :)
> 
>  **My fan art:** https://musicboxmemories.tumblr.com/post/644351416696209408/i-was-pleasantly-surprised-by-how-nice-everyone (It looks weird/stretched out here, for some reason? So it looks better on Tumblr.)


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